


Little Miracles

by enigmaticblue



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:23:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1689881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley and Fred and Christmas miracles. Takes place in between Dad and Birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Miracles

Lorne heard Wesley humming a Christmas carol from across the lobby. Connor was in his carrier, and the man was absently rocking it to keep him quiet. From the emotions rolling off of him, it was clear that he had it bad for Fred.

 

“What’s up?” Fred asked from behind him.

 

Lorne glanced over at her, wondering if he should say anything about Wesley’s feelings; he knew that the other man was unlikely to make the first move. So, while he didn’t like sharing secrets out of turn, he thought of himself as doing them both a service.

 

“Just listening to Wes pouring his heart out,” Lorne replied.

 

Fred’s eyes wandered to the front counter, where Wesley was bent over a book with Connor beside him. “Is he okay?” she asked anxiously. “He’s still avoiding me.”

 

“Is he?” Lorne asked, playing dumb.

 

She nodded. “He has been ever since that thing with Billy’s blood. I told him that I didn’t hold it against him, but he didn’t seem to believe me.”

 

“You know,” Lorne began, “maybe he’s not worried about you not forgiving him.”

 

“You mean that he hasn’t forgiven himself?” Fred asked, her brow furrowing in thought. “It wasn’t his fault.”

 

Lorne realized that she wasn’t taking the hint. “People have a hard time forgiving themselves for hurting the people they love.”

 

She glanced at him. “We all love each other. It’s not—”

 

Lorne knew she understood what he’d been alluding to when she focused on Wesley, looking at him the way she did some particularly knotty problem. “He feels that way?”

 

Lorne didn’t bother telling her that she was likely the only one unaware of his affection, although Angel might not know about it, as he was too caught up with Connor to notice anything else. “He has for a while now.”

 

Her eyes narrowed. “Huh.”

 

There was nothing else he could do; Lorne had done what he could to spread a little Christmas cheer. The rest was up to Fred.

 

~~~~~

 

Fred honestly hadn’t seen anything other than friendship in Wesley’s actions towards her; he was solicitous of Cordelia, too. After Lorne had dropped the hint, she could begin to see what the demon meant. It was the way Wesley would watch her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, and the way he flushed slightly whenever she caught him looking.

 

She was reminded of a boy she had liked back in high school; he had been too shy to ask her to prom, and so she’d done it. Fred had a feeling that she might have to do the same thing this time.

 

How to do it, though? That was the question, since Wesley was clearly still jumpy around her after the thing with Billy’s blood. He had a tendency to make sure they were never alone, possibly thinking that she would be more comfortable.

 

Although she thought about asking Cordelia for her advice, Fred discarded that idea, not wanting to make things any weirder. It was up to her—if she wanted to do anything about it.

 

The more she thought about it, the more she remembered Wesley’s strong arms around her in Caritas, when Gunn’s old gang had shown up, his brokenness at having hurt her, his awkwardness…

 

And, as her mom would say, he was very easy on the eyes.

 

In the end, Fred decided that she would need to be sneaky. Very sneaky. So, she waited until she was certain that everyone was gone, leaving the two of them alone in the hotel. Wesley was translating some old prophecies that he thought might pertain to Connor, and Angel and Cordelia had gone out Christmas shopping for Connor. Gunn was doing this own thing, since one of his old friends had shown up asking for his help.

 

And that left the two of them.

 

Fred bounced Connor in her arms and stood in the doorway of the office, watching Wesley work. He ran a hand through already-disheveled hair and tossed his pen down. “Trouble?” she asked.

 

“I can’t quite manage the syntax here,” he replied absently. “It’s frustrating.” Then, as though he’d just noticed, he asked, “Where are the others?”

 

“They went out,” she replied. “Shopping and an emergency of some sort. Angel asked if we’d watch Connor, remember?”

 

He nodded, massaging his temples. “Yes, of course. I just—” He stopped. “Do you want me to take him?” Wesley asked, nodding at Connor. “If you’d like to go out as well—”

 

“I wanted to stay in,” Fred replied, interrupting him. “You don’t mind staying, do you?”

 

He shook his head, and she could see him swallow. “No, of course not.”

 

“Maybe we could start decorating,” she suggested. “Cordy got garland for the staircase, but she hasn’t been able to put it up yet. That last vision took a lot out of her.”

 

Worry passed across his face, and stuck around. “I know. Each vision seems worse than the one before. I’ve been trying to find something that would make it easier on her, but with Connor, and everything else going on, I haven’t been able to find the time.”

 

Fred put Connor in his arms. “Forget about that for a while,” she advised him. “I’ll put up the garland, and you can tell me if it’s straight.”

 

There had to be a way to get him to relax for a while; now that she thought about, Fred couldn’t quite remember the last time he’d seemed really happy.

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley wasn’t sure that this was a good idea. She was in no danger from him, but he was worried that she might still be uncomfortable in his presence.

 

“What do you think?” she asked, drawing his attention back to the present.

 

“It looks good,” he replied. Fred had draped the garland along the banister. She’d only been able to decorate one side because there wasn’t enough for both, but he thought that it looked festive. It was better than they’d done last year, although they’d been dealing with the Darla debacle then.

 

She turned to him. “Do you think we should have mistletoe?” she asked innocently.

 

Wesley swallowed. If they did have mistletoe, he was quite certain that Gunn would find a way to maneuver Fred under it, and he wasn’t sure he dared.

 

Gunn had fought the effects of Billy’s blood; he hadn’t. The shame he felt from that fact still burned in his gut.

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.

 

“Why not?” Fred asked, moving closer to him. “Are you afraid of it?”

 

“Of course not!” he shot back. “I just think that it might make things awkward.”

 

Fred’s eyes seemed to be measuring him, and Wesley was quite certain that she found him wanting. “Would you mind helping me hang lights in my room?” she asked. “I don’t think we’re going to have a tree this year, and it would be nice to have lights. They’re my favorite part.”

 

“Of course,” Wesley replied, grateful that she wasn’t going to press him further. “Let me put Connor down.”

 

He put the sleeping child in his crib, pausing for a moment to watch him sleeping. A smile touched his lips; he’d always had a fondness for children, but he’d never realized that he liked babies.

 

Or perhaps he just liked Connor.

 

Moving slowly, Wesley made his way towards Fred’s room, feeling more and more awkward the closer he got. “Fred?” he called, just outside the door. He wanted to make an excuse for why he couldn’t help her.

 

He was in love with her, and she hadn’t noticed. Thank God, she hadn’t noticed.

 

“Hey!” she said brightly. “Did Connor go down okay?”

 

“Yes, he’s sleeping.” Wesley swallowed. “Maybe I should—”

 

“Kiss me?” Fred suggested.

 

Wesley choked. “What?”

 

“Kiss me.” It was a statement this time. “I took the mistletoe down, since you thought it might be awkward or weird, and I don’t want it to be. Weird or awkward, I mean. I want you to kiss me because you want to, because Lorne said you felt that way. But maybe he was wrong. I mean, it’s possible, right? He could be wrong, but I kind of think he’s not wrong. And if you—”

 

He kissed her because she’d asked, and because he thought it might be the only way to stop her from rambling on forever. It was just as brilliant as he thought it would be, and Fred grasped his head firmly between her hands, hanging on for dear life.

 

When he finally pulled away to catch his breath, Fred was watching him with the same kind of intensity she had when trying to figure out a physics problem. It made him a little nervous. “Was it alright?”

 

“Better than,” she reassured him absently.

 

“Then is there something wrong?”

 

Fred shook her head. “Was Lorne wrong?”

 

“No, although I wish he hadn’t said anything,” Wesley replied.

 

“I don’t. I didn’t realize,” she admitted.

 

Wesley shook his head. “I didn’t want you to.”

 

“Why?”

 

“After what happened—”

 

“It wasn’t your fault.”

 

He appreciated the reassurance, but he wasn’t quite as certain about that. “Gunn resisted.”

 

“Charles knew what the blood did,” Fred pointed out. “You didn’t. You didn’t know to resist.”

 

“I don’t—” He turned to go, certain that this couldn’t possibly work out.

 

She grabbed his arm. “Don’t you believe in miracles?”

 

“What?” The question seemed out of place.

 

“Connor’s a miracle, isn’t he?” Fred demanded.

 

He shook his head, more in bewilderment than to deny her point. “I suppose he is, but—”

 

“Forgiveness is kind of a miracle,” Fred went on, ignoring him. “And so is love. Because you can’t care about the other person’s reaction. You just have to go for it.”

 

Wesley began to understand. “That’s true enough,” he said cautiously.

 

“So?” Fred prompted. “Are you going to go for it or not?”

 

For a moment, Wesley was tempted to play it safe, but he knew that she was right. She was offering him everything he’d believed that he wanted, which was a miracle in and of itself.

 

Instead of answering her, he turned fully and pulled her into his arms again. Wesley felt her arms twine around his neck, her body press against his, and he realized that he’d received a small miracle of his own, even though he hadn’t believed in them until now.

 

‘Tis the season, he thought. Then, he thought of nothing at all but the feeling of having the woman he loved in his arms.


End file.
